" polaroid orange "

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nothing like finding your old cameras just tucked away in your room and remembering that it is still fully functional.

nothing like asking for someone to mail you said camera from cali > nyc and also receiving it in a care package alongside another (!) polaroid cam they found!

nothing like discovering that not only did it have an old film pack inside, but after some finagling, you could replace the pack battery so that you could use said film package.

nothing like testing out the film & camera's prowess while out in the world running errands with a great friend, and finding that despite the fact that the film is expired from 2003, there still is an image.

nothing like reeling with all the myriad of strange and curious possibilities of what beautiful and alluring images you can now play around with.

tonight's homework:

good times only.

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" a platform at all times "

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if you have something to say, speak. let the words ring out clear like the peal of a brass bell in the city square. there is no time like the present. there is no time to waste in silence.

you will be listened to; you will be heard.

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—- 
 i wish that i didn’t have regrets. i wish that i took the photos i meant to take when i saw them, and now i’m haunted by their nonexistence. 
 i wish that i stepped forward more often, approached more of those interesting strangers more often, said something, said anything. 
 didn’t want to infringe, ruin the already anxious commute, put someone out, or make someone uncomfortable in a public space. 
 it’s such a strange fine line though. whether to engage or respect people so much that you forgo any and all interaction of any kind. but this at times may prove a mistake. 
 if not you then it’ll be some other person, and they may not be so kind, or interesting, creative, honest, or brave. they might be the reason you don’t do something about a feeling which stems from a place of appreciation. 
 by you not saying or doing anything, you’re showing yourself that there is no shared experience, save a feeling of alienation and forced bubble of privacy. you’re helping to extend the notion that we are not all in this together. 
 and we are in this together. (we are all sort of weird already, but isn’t it a comfort to know that we are all weird together? i think so, and there’s a certain poetry in that.) 
 i wish that i didn’t have regrets, and in the near future, you just might meet me out in the world being slightly bold or bashful to your face, so either way, don’t shirk, avoid, or walk on by. 
 please be in the least understanding. cause it will be a pleasure to meet you, and i can promise i’ve washed my hands. 
 —-

—-

i wish that i didn’t have regrets. i wish that i took the photos i meant to take when i saw them, and now i’m haunted by their nonexistence.

i wish that i stepped forward more often, approached more of those interesting strangers more often, said something, said anything.

didn’t want to infringe, ruin the already anxious commute, put someone out, or make someone uncomfortable in a public space.

it’s such a strange fine line though. whether to engage or respect people so much that you forgo any and all interaction of any kind. but this at times may prove a mistake.

if not you then it’ll be some other person, and they may not be so kind, or interesting, creative, honest, or brave. they might be the reason you don’t do something about a feeling which stems from a place of appreciation.

by you not saying or doing anything, you’re showing yourself that there is no shared experience, save a feeling of alienation and forced bubble of privacy. you’re helping to extend the notion that we are not all in this together.

and we are in this together. (we are all sort of weird already, but isn’t it a comfort to know that we are all weird together? i think so, and there’s a certain poetry in that.)

i wish that i didn’t have regrets, and in the near future, you just might meet me out in the world being slightly bold or bashful to your face, so either way, don’t shirk, avoid, or walk on by.

please be in the least understanding. cause it will be a pleasure to meet you, and i can promise i’ve washed my hands.

—-

—- 
 the terrifying prospect of not having it all together as we near the end of this year, and how that’s fine. 
 at least have a sense of direction if burdened with no clear destination. at least have that. 
 alone together at all times. things may not feel like it now, but they’re looking up as much as you feel all is lost. 
 the belief that you are alone in all of these thoughts, experiences, and feelings. and how completely the opposite is true. 
 —-

—-

the terrifying prospect of not having it all together as we near the end of this year, and how that’s fine.

at least have a sense of direction if burdened with no clear destination. at least have that.

alone together at all times. things may not feel like it now, but they’re looking up as much as you feel all is lost.

the belief that you are alone in all of these thoughts, experiences, and feelings. and how completely the opposite is true.

—-

—-

tonight was super rad snowtimes:

even with the hordes of santacon enthusiasts weirding up the manhattan streets

even with the crowds of tourists not quite sure where they are/they’re going/what they want to see/what they would like to do

even with the snow flurries all up in my face

even when i don’t have boots, but waterproof oxford timberlands with no-show socks because buhhh?

and when you walk around the softly floating snowflakes and the city isn’t gray or black-slush yet, when there are large streets still bone white, powder soft, and granular, it is simply lovely.

the belgian chicken & waffles and mac & cheese didn’t hurt either.

snow boom!

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